


boca chulo

by ficfucker



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Established Relationship, Frottage, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Trans Mordecai (Borderlands)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:14:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27999564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ficfucker/pseuds/ficfucker
Summary: "What can I say?" Mordecai steps forward in an attempt to cage Brick in, but the size difference isn't on his side. He swings his twig-thin arms around Brick's waist, slides one hand into the back pocket of Brick's jeans. "Nothin' I like more than watchin' some Hyperion bastards choke on their own blood."
Relationships: Brick/Mordecai (Borderlands)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 15





	boca chulo

**Author's Note:**

> im sick of lookin at this...... take it. but be gentle, it's my first borderlands smut lol
> 
> also terms used for mordecai are dick and slit. just my pref as a trans man myself

" _Mi sol. Mi cielo_ …," Mordecai hums. He arches to the tips of his toes and kisses down the right side of Brick's square cut jaw. His hands are around the back of his head, skillfully unlatching his headgear.

Brick shifts the cardboard box that's now sandwiched between them and lets out a gruff chuckle. "Give me a minute, Mordy. Ain't even set my damn stuff down yet."

The two of them had gone out to Slab Town to gather up a few of Brick's belongings: some flags, small valuables, various weapons he didn't want to leave behind. They'd gotten a decent amount of Hyperion stragglers while there. Mordecai sniped them, clean and easy, from his makeshift perch on the radio tower. Brick went in among his fellow bandits and beat down anything that shined yellow in the dying sunlight.

It brought back some memories of their first few months on Pandora. Teamed up and killing together.

It's clearly had an impact on Mordecai, and certainly not one of aversion.

Mordecai keeps on peppering feather-light kisses along Brick's throat. He's gotten his mask completely off now, tossed aside on the counter he's practically shoving Brick against. " _Mi amado…_ " Knowing Brick is here and planning to stay, is sharing a small Sanctuary flat with him, has Mordecai melting inside. "Waited all day. _Finalmente a sólos contigo_."

Brick smiles. "What? Didn't wanna kiss me in front of the Slabs?"

Mordecai huffs a small chuckle and takes a step back to give Brick enough room to set his things down. He crosses his arms over his chest, watches Brick place the box on Mordecai's kitchen table. "Nah," he says, a bit smugly. " _Eres todo mío_. They ain't gettin' a free show like that."

A low blush rolls over the back of Brick's neck, warms up to his face. "Guess I should take you out to tag Hyperion more often, if it gets you this riled up."

"What can I say?" Mordecai steps forward in an attempt to cage Brick in, but the size difference isn't on his side. He swings his twig-thin arms around Brick's waist, slides one hand into the back pocket of Brick's jeans. "Nothin' I like more than watchin' some Hyperion bastards choke on their own blood."

Brick chuckles and kisses the crown of Mordecai's head. Mordecai squeezes his ass teasingly in response, bold in a way that Brick knows is rare. It burns pleasantly in Brick's stomach; the direct need, the possessiveness.

Brick puts his arms around Mordecai, a gesture that is ridiculously familiar now, and Mordecai's smile breaks even wider. It's not often that he's so unrestrained with his affection, and Brick drinks the sight in while it lasts.

He remembers a time when Mordecai wouldn't even let him pat his shoulder, didn't want to be looked at, let alone touched.

Mordecai is carried to their shared room and set down on their bed, which is actually two mattresses shoved together and covered haphazardly with various bed rolls and salvaged blankets. Before Brick can stand to undress, Mordecai puts his palm to the side of his face, thumb resting over his cheekbone. The eye contact they maintain is intimate, fierce, and Brick leans eagerly into the awaiting kiss.

Mordecai is smiling when he pulls away, tired eyes creased in the corners. "Gonna give me a show?" he asks, voice turning up with teasing expectation.

More warmth floods Brick's face, but his lips tweak into a smile and he undoes the buckle around his waist, shucks off his vest. That gets tossed aside in the direction of a growing pile of dirty laundry. Brick's undershirt is beyond form-fitting, leans hard on the territory of tight, which displays all the muscles of his chest and stomach almost obscenely. He doesn't mind being looked at, certainly not when the person looking at him is Mordecai. He flexes his abdominals, brings his arm up to tense a bicep.

Even after all these years, Mordecai's gut tremors at the sight of the man before him. The largeness, the strength. The knowledge that all this power is on his side. Mordecai reaches out a hand, herds Brick closer.

"Want somethin'?" Brick gruffs. He knows exactly what he's doing to Mordecai.

"More than somethin','' Mordecai answers vaguely, breathless. He trails both his hands up Brick's stomach. His palms settle over Brick's pecs and after a sharp inhale, he squeezes.

What cocky nerve Brick had a moment ago has rattled down to nothing, embarrassed and flustered and hardening in his jeans at Mordecai's groping. "Knock it off…"

Mordecai squeezes again, leans in so his head rests just below Brick's chest. " _Quiero tú boca chulo_ …," he hums.

Brick knows that phrase by heart. He brushes Mordecai's hands away and drops to a kneel. Even at this height, Brick feels foolishly tall, which causes his face to blaze hotter with blush. He begins undoing Mordecai's fly, thankful that the other accessories, like his canteen, side pouch, various buckles and attachments, weren't equipped today.

Mordecai's right hand slides into place cupping the back of Brick's skull, thumb rubbing affectionately at the clipped bristles of hair. "Good thing we got you cleaned up before coming back, huh?"

Brick snorts.

They had stopped off in his former throne room to wash up in the industrial cleaner, watching ribbons of Hyperion blood foam and circle the drain.

"Doesn't matter much either way. You've done it with me when I was covered in guts and gore." He slips Mordecai's pants down and Mordecai assists by raising his hips so Brick can pull them the rest of the way off, stopped around his ankles. So eager, neither have taken the time to remove their boots.

"Shouldn't make a habit of it."

Brick lowers his face to Mordecai's thighs. He kisses at them, listens close to the change in breathing it causes. He hooks his thumbs into the waistband of Mordecai's underwear and starts to tug them down. Mordecai continues stroking at the nape of Brick's neck, encouraging, and when Brick glances up for approval, he receives it in the form of a half-lidded smile.

"Go on, _cariño_ ," Mordecai encourages.

Brick slides his hands under Mordecai's skinny thighs and effortlessly hoists him up, slings both of Mordecai's legs over his left shoulder.

"Shit—!"

Brick shucks Mordecai's boxers down as far as they'll go, tangled up with his pants, and leans in, flats his tongue against the head of Mordecai's dick. Mordecai tenses, muscles of his legs flexing, then goes limp as Brick laps his tongue over him, down to his slit. Various Spanish swears are spilling out of Mordecai in nearly frantic streams, but it's cut short when Brick takes his cock into his mouth and sucks gently; a gasp punches out of Mordecai's gut and he sighs dreamily, melting into the bed.

Brick hums low in his throat to wordlessly voice his own enjoyment and Mordecai makes a shaky noise in response. He's got his mouth completely over him now, nose pressed right up against Mordecai's lower stomach, the fine laying of his dark pubic hair. It's no surprise Brick loves to give, wants nothing more than to be the reason Mordecai comes apart in his hands. And with practice, he's gotten good at it.

"Brick," Mordecai pants. He reaches around and pushes weakly at a sculpted shoulder. " _Vete aquí_ …"

With a grunt, Brick eases away. He trails sloppy kisses down Mordecai's bare thighs then stands, leans over him on the bed, and presses a desperate kiss to Mordecai's mouth.

" _Necesito tú verga_ …"

Brick breathes hard through his nose, heart picking up in his chest. He kisses Mordecai a moment longer, drawing it out because he can, because they're together and he's allowed to. Both of Mordecai's hands come up to Brick's face, palms cupping him on each side.

Stepping back, Brick goes about removing his belt, which is always the most excruciating part of undressing when he's keyed up.

"Impractical," Mordecai comments. He's up on his elbows, smiling. He bends over and unlaces his boots to kick off his pants.

"Shut up." The heavy lock clicks open and is discarded in the same pile as his vest.

"What? It's true." Mordecai sits up as Brick pulls his own briefs down, dark eyes dropped to his erection with no care for subtleties. He reaches out and curls a slender palm around Brick's cock, gives a slow, soft tug before he can get up on the bed.

Brick grits his teeth and exhales. The contact is nice, but he wants more. " _Mordy_ …"

Mordecai strokes him again and chuckles. " _Fácil_ ," he teases. He lifts his legs and hooks his ankles to the small of Brick's back, tugs him as close together as they can be.

Brick mumbles, "For you…" He reaches down between them and aligns things so his cock is pressed right against Mordecai's. They're both slick with arousal so the first thrust he gives has him gliding warm and smooth over his partner, a shivery whimper catching in his throat.

Mordecai murmurs raspy praise, gaunt arms circled around Brick's neck. "So good," he coos. " _Mi amado_ …" He digs his fingernails lightly into the solid meat of Brick's shoulders.

As much as he loves the praise, the dirty, frantic need that Mordecai is voicing, Brick angles his face enough that he can kiss Mordecai. Not to shut him up, but rather, because he wants his mouth on him, wants to feel Mordecai moan against his teeth. His thrusts are already getting sloppy. Pumped full of leftover adrenaline from earlier, now a firestarter in his gut from Mordecai jumping on him as soon as they got a minute alone.

Mordecai raises his hips up off the mattress and lolls his head away, inviting Brick to kiss down his neck, which he does without hesitation. A few dreads have slipped from their tie and with one large hand, holding his weight up with the other, Brick tries to smooth them out of Mordecai's face as tenderly as he can.

A breathy giggle. Mordecai runs his hands up and down Brick's broad back, a bit frustrated by the thin material of his undershirt separating them. "So good to me…"

Brick gives him a playful bite and chases the warmth between his legs. He's panting hard, face tucked into Mordecai's collar bone. Mordecai digs his heels harder into Brick's lower back the way a skag rider might kick his spurs, yanking Brick to him and keeping them pinned together. In a strained whisper, he asks Brick to come for him.

And Brick does. He snaps his hips forward savagely, chest heaving, and comes over Mordecai's lower stomach, his shirt. His mind goes white like he's in a rage, just driving toward mindless pleasure, and he groans low and deep. Mordecai's name sputters from him, distantly wanting him to come, too, and when he feels his cock give a mean twitch, he knows he's gotten him there.

Mordecai moans Brick's name, disjointed praise until it tapers off into a grunt followed by a few labored whimpers.

" _Dios mio_ …" Mordecai kisses at Brick's jaw. "Gettin' too old for this."

Brick rolls off him, limp as a dead rakk. "Hey. You started it."

"Saw it out to the end too, didn't I?"

Brick chuckles and plants a kiss on Mordecai's temple before willing himself up in search of something to use to clean the two of them with.

**Author's Note:**

> lemme know what yall think >~>


End file.
